Jeannie is in the running for the King5 best local radio personality...make the dream a reality!
go here to vote:
http://best.king5.com/contests/best-of-western-washington/2336/people/local-radio-personality
she did not ask me to post this...but how could i not?!
*Update from Jeannie: No, I did not ask him to post this. Weird.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
DFW
yet another David Foster Wallace post...
In the late 90's I took one class with him at ISU. I talked my way into the class as i already had my undergrad and was spending a year taking only classes that i was really interested in...and he was teaching a class on the postmodern novel...he was kind enough to listen to my appeal and let me into a grad level english class that i had no business being in at that time.
But what a class! We read gaddis, delillo, cormac mccarthy, etc. To be honest, i just couldn't read through all of the gaddis, i love the delillo stuff, and mccarthy was kinda depressing. But that said, it was the most engaging class! The discussions transcended the conventional borders of any English classes i had previously experienced. Deep discussions that circled in and around math, science, history, rhetoric, and more. Truly educational.
On my final paper he drew the "style faerie"....and throughout my paper the "SF" pointed out every stupid grammatical mistake that i made...and believe me..i made a LOT of them.
I dug that paper up last night to read his comments...I can't believe that i handed in something as poorly written as i did to someone like him..someone that was that good at what they did. Someone that insightful. Someone in such deep and fantastic control of language and ideas. In the end i did fine on the paper and the class but i always felt bad about not proofing that paper. It was disrespectful to his craft.
P.S. He was also the first person i'd ever seen chew tobacco.
In the late 90's I took one class with him at ISU. I talked my way into the class as i already had my undergrad and was spending a year taking only classes that i was really interested in...and he was teaching a class on the postmodern novel...he was kind enough to listen to my appeal and let me into a grad level english class that i had no business being in at that time.
But what a class! We read gaddis, delillo, cormac mccarthy, etc. To be honest, i just couldn't read through all of the gaddis, i love the delillo stuff, and mccarthy was kinda depressing. But that said, it was the most engaging class! The discussions transcended the conventional borders of any English classes i had previously experienced. Deep discussions that circled in and around math, science, history, rhetoric, and more. Truly educational.
On my final paper he drew the "style faerie"....and throughout my paper the "SF" pointed out every stupid grammatical mistake that i made...and believe me..i made a LOT of them.
I dug that paper up last night to read his comments...I can't believe that i handed in something as poorly written as i did to someone like him..someone that was that good at what they did. Someone that insightful. Someone in such deep and fantastic control of language and ideas. In the end i did fine on the paper and the class but i always felt bad about not proofing that paper. It was disrespectful to his craft.
P.S. He was also the first person i'd ever seen chew tobacco.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Well, that went well.
I just had a cup of coffee. I had to. I hated everybody. Now I love everyone again.
In response to the vampire anxiety dream
I'm gonna try to go off coffee till after the wedding. Nothing but tea for princess here. Today is Day 1, and I'm exactly as grumpy as you'd expect. I'm taking it one day at a time - we'll see how long I last.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Anxiety Dreams
Last night I had my first anxiety dream about the wedding. I don't remember much about the beginning of the dream except for an overall sense of nervousness. I was with a large group of people. We were all on the roof of a hotel, having a party that I know had to do with the wedding. Then the vampires showed up. They were dressed like gothy pirates (thank you, Anne Rice / Milli Vanilli!) And they started eating my guests. Very awkward. Now, I've chronicled my obsession w/ Buffy the Vampire Slayer here before. I know how to handle vampires. So I grabbed what I thought was a wooden stake and drove it into Vanilli's heart. Guess what? The stake wasn't wooden. It was plastic with some kind of veneer. So I headed out to the hallways of the hotel. Suddenly my sister appeared and we started dismantling / unscrewing furniture for wood. (I actually remember unscrewing a chair leg and throwing a washer over my shoulder thinking, "that won't help me kill vampires".) Then we headed back in to the party. I started stabbing vampires in the chest with my wooden stakes, many of which had long metal screws on top from being chair legs. This meant I had to drive the stakes even *further* into the hearts of the gothy pirate vampires. It was not going well. I was really just angering the vampires. It was quickly turning into an awful party.
Then I woke up, and my first thought upon waking was, "why the hell weren't those wooden stakes working?" I felt anxious. That feeling of anxiety stayed with me most of the day. In fact Aa even noticed it and asked me what I was so tense about. I couldn't really tell him it was the vampires. I'd sound crazy, right? So instead, I'm writing this post for you, Interwebs.
Now I feel better.
Then I woke up, and my first thought upon waking was, "why the hell weren't those wooden stakes working?" I felt anxious. That feeling of anxiety stayed with me most of the day. In fact Aa even noticed it and asked me what I was so tense about. I couldn't really tell him it was the vampires. I'd sound crazy, right? So instead, I'm writing this post for you, Interwebs.
Now I feel better.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Neighborhood! Coffee! Shop! Or, The Minutiae Of A Totally First-World Problem
So, Aa and I looooove the Minty and we really like living so close to downtown Ballard. But one of the things we've desperately missed is a neighborhood coffee shop. See, in our last apartment we lived right across the street from this miraculous place called Lighthouse Coffee. It's a great coffee shop, sure, but the place also roasts their own beans. RIGHT. IN. THE. STORE. OK? So my neighborhood smelled like fresh-roasted coffee, and the espresso is holy shit delicious, arguably the best in Seattle. (yes, yes, I know: Vivace. Unclench. I said "arguably", alright?)
Anyway. So, upon moving away from the warm embrace of Lighthouse, Aa and I have longed for a right-down-the-street place to get a good Americano. On weekends, we'll take the Zacker and walk up to Bambino, which I will always heart because they allow dogs inside and have dog treats available. This is niiiiice, but it's not a weekday kind of niiiiice.
So it's been with much anticipation that Aa and I have watched the transformation of a little storefront less than a block from our house. I even changed my walking-home-from-the-bus route so I could stop and peer inside to gauge progress. We heard many rumors about the place, including, at one point, that it would serve waffles. Which, you know, OK. But I could never get the answer to the important question: WOULD THEY SERVE GOOD COFFEE, meaning WOULD THEY HAVE A DECENT ESPRESSO MACHINE AND COULD THEIR BARISTAS PULL A DECENT SHOT? (I cringe as I type this, I want you to know. I am aware that I sound like a supreme asshole, and the cap letters don't help. But I'm not gonna lie - this shit is important.)
Yesterday, when I got off the bus, I noticed the little mystery cafe had an open door and, more importantly, an 'OPEN' sign. And, perhaps most importantly, they had an espresso machine and were giving away free coffee. I went in, chatted up the barista, and she kindly made me a decaf Americano. As I drank it, a term from a sport I do not watch at all popped into my head.
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was a gooooooood Americano. Praise Jeebus, it was a really good Americano.
It is with much happiness that Aa and I welcome the Sun Cafe into our neighborhood!! And, might I add, it's about gee dee time. I fear once Veraci finally opens across the street from the Sun, I might just explode with joy. I'm not into the dumb, ugly "townhomes" being built pretty much right in my backyard (at 7:30 on a Saturday morning, thanks douchebags). But I am so into these two new lil' businesses parking right down the street from me. This is development I am 100000% behind. Yes, that's right, five whole zeroes. That's how much I'm behind it.
Anyway. So, upon moving away from the warm embrace of Lighthouse, Aa and I have longed for a right-down-the-street place to get a good Americano. On weekends, we'll take the Zacker and walk up to Bambino, which I will always heart because they allow dogs inside and have dog treats available. This is niiiiice, but it's not a weekday kind of niiiiice.
So it's been with much anticipation that Aa and I have watched the transformation of a little storefront less than a block from our house. I even changed my walking-home-from-the-bus route so I could stop and peer inside to gauge progress. We heard many rumors about the place, including, at one point, that it would serve waffles. Which, you know, OK. But I could never get the answer to the important question: WOULD THEY SERVE GOOD COFFEE, meaning WOULD THEY HAVE A DECENT ESPRESSO MACHINE AND COULD THEIR BARISTAS PULL A DECENT SHOT? (I cringe as I type this, I want you to know. I am aware that I sound like a supreme asshole, and the cap letters don't help. But I'm not gonna lie - this shit is important.)
Yesterday, when I got off the bus, I noticed the little mystery cafe had an open door and, more importantly, an 'OPEN' sign. And, perhaps most importantly, they had an espresso machine and were giving away free coffee. I went in, chatted up the barista, and she kindly made me a decaf Americano. As I drank it, a term from a sport I do not watch at all popped into my head.
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was a gooooooood Americano. Praise Jeebus, it was a really good Americano.
It is with much happiness that Aa and I welcome the Sun Cafe into our neighborhood!! And, might I add, it's about gee dee time. I fear once Veraci finally opens across the street from the Sun, I might just explode with joy. I'm not into the dumb, ugly "townhomes" being built pretty much right in my backyard (at 7:30 on a Saturday morning, thanks douchebags). But I am so into these two new lil' businesses parking right down the street from me. This is development I am 100000% behind. Yes, that's right, five whole zeroes. That's how much I'm behind it.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Reason 5,973 Why I'm Lucky
I have ridiculously awesome friends. This past weekend, my friends Liz, Renee, Laurie, and Wendy organized a weekend away at Renee and Laurie's in-laws' family cabin on Vashon Island. I got picked up by Liz on Friday afternoon and then whisked away to a place where I didn't have to do or plan anything, except whether I wanted another glass of wine. Or some more cookies. For the record, I wanted both.
We also got to bring dogs, so the Zacker came with me and Wendy brought her guy Jackson.
He's waiting and waiting and waiting for someone to throw something in the water so he can fetch it. Swear to God, Wendy threw rocks for him to fetch out of the water on Saturday afternoon - and he stuck his head underwater and fetched them.
Zack spent a lot of his time on the island either lying in the sun, as usual, or sitting on my lap. Here we are hanging out around the bonfire Saturday night, working on our Myspace profile picture.
And here is a weird grassy path-y place Liz, Zack and I stumbled on during one of our long walks. I am 85% certain there is some sort of religious cult living there.
Saturday night, special guest stars Rebecca and Patricia dropped by to have dinner. Look at how excited Rebecca is! Or perhaps she's saying, "We gotta get the fuck off this island! Now!"
We also got to bring dogs, so the Zacker came with me and Wendy brought her guy Jackson.
He's waiting and waiting and waiting for someone to throw something in the water so he can fetch it. Swear to God, Wendy threw rocks for him to fetch out of the water on Saturday afternoon - and he stuck his head underwater and fetched them.Zack spent a lot of his time on the island either lying in the sun, as usual, or sitting on my lap. Here we are hanging out around the bonfire Saturday night, working on our Myspace profile picture.
And here is a weird grassy path-y place Liz, Zack and I stumbled on during one of our long walks. I am 85% certain there is some sort of religious cult living there.
Saturday night, special guest stars Rebecca and Patricia dropped by to have dinner. Look at how excited Rebecca is! Or perhaps she's saying, "We gotta get the fuck off this island! Now!"
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Transit Stories, Parts 1 & 2
Yesterday morning, I ran to the bus stop because I saw my bus sitting at the intersection. Once I got to the stop, I realized that bus wasn't going anywhere -- all the lights were off save the hazards, and there were reflective-vest wearing techs standing around nearby. So I got my magazine out to wait. That's when I heard this terrible coughing, retching sound from behind the bus shelter. I turned around and saw someone bent over, coughing away. He came out from behind the shelter - he was a youngish looking guy in a baseball cap and sweats. I felt bad for him. I walked over to the bus schedule to see what time the next bus was. Baseball Cap said "I think we just missed our bus. I got off the 28 a minute ago to connect, but there wasn't anyone else at the stop." I replied that maybe the stalled bus was the one we wanted, and we'd be waiting for a while. Then I walked a few paces to get back into my magazine.
That's when I heard a just totally hair-raisingly nasty retching / belching sound coming from Baseball Cap's direction. Then the smell hit me. Then he retched and belched again. I walked towards the garbage can to throw something away, only to realize Baseball Cap puked all over it. I turned around to see where he was and realized he puked all over the bus schedule and bus stop signpost, too. He must've done that right after we chatted about "our" bus. At this point, three people came to the stop, saw / heard / smelled Baseball Cap getting sick, started mumbling, and quickly walked away.
That's when Weepy Drunk Lady appeared. She came out of the gas station near the bus stop, talking about the lateness of the bus. Then, she headed towards me and started crying. She brushed right past me, crying and talking to herself. Baseball Cap belched behind me and something wet hit the ground. Two more people who'd come to the bus stop looked at each other, shook their heads, and walked away.
At this point, I did something I've never done in my whole transit-riding life. I called Aa and asked for a ride to work. As I did this, Weepy Drunk Lady suddenly stopped crying. She looked at me on my phone and her eyes narrowed. "What?! You're gonna be late for work?! You ignore a homeless person?! You're calling your boss?! With your fancy backpack?!" I wasn't worried about being late for work, I wasn't calling my boss, and my backpack is old, ratty, and thoroughly un-fancy. But she was right about one thing. I was trying very hard to ignore her, as well as Baseball Cap, who must've just been puking up bile or dry heaving at that point. Aa agreed to give me a lift, and I headed home. Weepy Drunk Lady followed me for about 100 feet, yelling questions at me the whole time. I didn't answer any of them.
This morning, I again saw the bus waiting to cross the intersection to my stop. This time, the bus was running and all the lights were on. I again ran to the stop and got on. As I headed back to find a seat, I heard "This song was way ahead of its time! It's really trance-y!" I turned to see who was talking - nobody talks on the AM buses here. A middle-aged man, developmentally disabled, was listening to an iPod through headphones. He had a huge grin on his face. "This song was groundbreaking! Yeah! Hey, that house is boarded up!" He looked up at me and grinned even wider. I grinned right back.
That's when I heard a just totally hair-raisingly nasty retching / belching sound coming from Baseball Cap's direction. Then the smell hit me. Then he retched and belched again. I walked towards the garbage can to throw something away, only to realize Baseball Cap puked all over it. I turned around to see where he was and realized he puked all over the bus schedule and bus stop signpost, too. He must've done that right after we chatted about "our" bus. At this point, three people came to the stop, saw / heard / smelled Baseball Cap getting sick, started mumbling, and quickly walked away.
That's when Weepy Drunk Lady appeared. She came out of the gas station near the bus stop, talking about the lateness of the bus. Then, she headed towards me and started crying. She brushed right past me, crying and talking to herself. Baseball Cap belched behind me and something wet hit the ground. Two more people who'd come to the bus stop looked at each other, shook their heads, and walked away.
At this point, I did something I've never done in my whole transit-riding life. I called Aa and asked for a ride to work. As I did this, Weepy Drunk Lady suddenly stopped crying. She looked at me on my phone and her eyes narrowed. "What?! You're gonna be late for work?! You ignore a homeless person?! You're calling your boss?! With your fancy backpack?!" I wasn't worried about being late for work, I wasn't calling my boss, and my backpack is old, ratty, and thoroughly un-fancy. But she was right about one thing. I was trying very hard to ignore her, as well as Baseball Cap, who must've just been puking up bile or dry heaving at that point. Aa agreed to give me a lift, and I headed home. Weepy Drunk Lady followed me for about 100 feet, yelling questions at me the whole time. I didn't answer any of them.
This morning, I again saw the bus waiting to cross the intersection to my stop. This time, the bus was running and all the lights were on. I again ran to the stop and got on. As I headed back to find a seat, I heard "This song was way ahead of its time! It's really trance-y!" I turned to see who was talking - nobody talks on the AM buses here. A middle-aged man, developmentally disabled, was listening to an iPod through headphones. He had a huge grin on his face. "This song was groundbreaking! Yeah! Hey, that house is boarded up!" He looked up at me and grinned even wider. I grinned right back.
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